


all we know (is don't let go)

by bitterheart



Series: a kaleidoscope of memories [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:07:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22614586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterheart/pseuds/bitterheart
Summary: The crowd has shifted enough that he sees a familiar profile, just a few metres away. It's been years, but Sylvain would recognise Felix anywhere.Sylvain and Felix see each other again for the first time in years, at a Taylor Swift concert.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: a kaleidoscope of memories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1627099
Comments: 2
Kudos: 95





	all we know (is don't let go)

**Author's Note:**

> This is written for [FE3H Song Week](https://twitter.com/hashtag/FE3HSongWeek) Day 1: State of Grace by Taylor Swift. Title taken from the lyrics of the same song.

_and I never saw you coming  
and I'll never be the same_  
  
  


Sylvain's having a bad night and the support act isn't even off the stage yet.

He's at this concert because he owes Ingrid, again, after she's cleaned up yet another one of his messes. She'd threatened him that eventually, she was going to give up on him. He laughed and told her that if she hadn't given up on him yet, it was unlikely that she ever would.

He bought her tickets to the Taylor Swift concert she wanted to go to anyway, and shelled out a few thousand dollars to get the good floor tickets. So far, she's shot down three of his attempts to flirt with the girls around him, he's been shot down by two more, and he's resigned himself to a night of music that he doesn't really care for and at best, tolerates when it's Ingrid's turn to decide what they're listening to while they drive. He can't even remember the last time he's paid this much money for something and hasn't even gotten to take someone home at the end of the night. 

"It's character building," Ingrid tells him without a shred of sympathy. "Besides, tonight is about Taylor, not about your dick getting you in even more trouble."

"I don't see why it can't be both," Sylvain grumbles. "I can multitask. Like last month when I—" 

"Finish that sentence," Ingrid tells him, "and I _will_ buy a drink just to throw it at you. Everyone will think that you're an asshole who has ruined my night. They'll be right."

Sylvain sighs heavily, folding his arms across his chest. He's at least grateful that Ingrid prefers to be at the back of the standing area instead of right in the middle of the crowd. His taste in music tends toward indie bands that pull much smaller crowds, or theatre where he has a seat. He's terrified of this crowd, and Ingrid is the only person in the world he'd do this for. 

He hopes she appreciates that, whenever she's done being mad at him. 

He wonders if it's too early to start drinking. This venue has a bar and the last time he'd been to a concert with a bar, it was because the venue itself had _been_ a bar. Ingrid doesn't even look at him when he wanders off to investigate it but she's actually enjoying the opening act, so Sylvain tries not to take it to heart.

When Sylvain gets to the bar, he finds that he isn't the only one with this idea. He gets himself a strong drink, knocking it back and settling into a corner of the bar area to get comfortable. He can still hear the music and he stays where he is while the support act finishes their act. He knows Ingrid won't let him get away with staying at the bar for the entire concert, so he wanders back to the floor during the break after the support act. 

Ingrid greets him with a raised eyebrow, a wordless, _what trouble have you gotten yourself into when I wasn't looking?_

Sylvain grins, holding both his hands up to appease her. He did consider finding someone to pick up at the bar, and the only thing that stopped him was the promise of Ingrid's wrath if she ever found out.

"You're more trouble than you're worth," she mutters to him as he wraps his arm around her shoulder. She's being the same thing for years and hasn't left him to take care of his own problems completely by himself yet, so Sylvain doesn't take that to heart either. 

Standing where they are at the back of the floor area, Sylvain can see the others in their section. There's a lull in energy as the members of the audience collect themselves before the main act. 

Sylvain enjoys watching the crowd. It's easier here, where he's detached from the excitement and can just watch it build it others instead. He can feel the way it rises with each passing moment as they get closer and closer to the main act. 

Then, suddenly, there are lights, music, and screams from the audience. The crowd shifts around him, everyone moving closer to the stage as if they're magnetised. Ingrid slips out from the arm Sylvain has around her, eyes wide and bright, the smile on her face so infectious that Sylvain can't help but grin as he scans the rest of the crowd.

That's the moment his stomach drops out.

The crowd has shifted enough that he sees a familiar profile, just a few metres away. It's been years, but Sylvain would recognise Felix anywhere. He's grown and changed in the time that they've been apart but as Sylvain stands there and takes him in, it feels like they're teenagers again. Felix's attention is turned to the stage, and Sylvain doesn't even realise how much he's missed Felix's smile until he's looking at it again. 

Sylvain can't tear his eyes away. Felix looks like what Sylvain remembers of his older brother, only with sharper features. Sylvain's mouth is dry and he swallows hard, blinking with surprise as he realises that Felix is _beautiful_. 

"Ingrid," he says urgently, still not looking at away from Felix but the music drowns his voice out. He needs her to look, he needs her to _understand_ , but she shrugs his hand off when he touches her shoulder and he wonders if this is what she means by leaving him to deal with his shit on his own because it feels like his entire world has tilted on its axis and he's trying to find his feet. 

He doesn't know how many songs he spends just looking at Felix, drinking in every single detail to make up for all the time they've spent apart. 

They've known each other for as long as Sylvain can remember. They grew up together, living on the same street until Sylvain's family moved away when he was fifteen. They haven't been in touch with each other since; Sylvain lost his phone and all of his contacts, and even if he's managed to reconnect with some of his older friends over the years, like he has with Ingrid, he's never found Felix no matter how hard he's looked. And now, they're both here and if not for the press of people between them, Sylvain could just reach out and touch him. 

Sylvain blinks, realising that he's somehow moved further into the crowd just to be closer to Felix. He realises that if he really wants to, he would be able to just push his way to Felix's side but he doesn't know what would come next. Does Felix even remember him? Does Felix even _want_ to see him? 

He exhales slowly, his shoulders dropping as he rocks back on his heels, ready to turn away. The current song ends and Taylor addresses the crowd. Sylvain can't process a single thing she's saying because Felix chooses that moment to finally notice that he's being stared at, turning around to meet Sylvain's gaze. 

Sylvain stands frozen in place as he watches the recognition dawn in Felix's eyes, his lips parting in surprise and then moving in the shape of his name. 

It feels like the world has kept going without them. The crowd moves around them and all they can do is stare at each other. Felix looks so vulnerable, in a way that makes Sylvain think of all the times he would cry when they were younger, pressing his face to Sylvain's chest and leaving his shirt wet with the tears he tried to hide from everyone else. 

Sylvain wants to reach for him and this time, his feet carry him forward, pushing through the crowd until he's by Felix's side. 

"Hey." The music around him steals the sound from his voice as soon as the word is out, but Felix is still looking at him, a crease between his brows. 

"Listen," Felix says into his ear at the next lull between songs. "I paid good money for this concert. I'm not letting you distract me through it." 

"I'll be here." Sylvain feels like he's unravelling at the edges, wild and desperate without even really knowing what it is that he wants. "I'll be right here." 

A shadow passes over Felix's expression and he turns his attention back to the stage without another word. Sylvain glances over his shoulder to find Ingrid and she's glaring at him, murderous, clearly assuming he's picking someone up again without seeing exactly who it is. He'll explain himself later. Right now, he doesn't think he could leave Felix's side if he tried. 

He knows that he should be paying some kind of attention to the concert but he can't. Not the costume changes, not the pyrotechnics, not with Felix right in front of him. He's trying and failing not to stare, and he can tell that Felix is getting agitated by it, his frown getting deeper and deeper until he finally turns to the girl beside him with bright red hair, gesturing that he's going to get a drink. He looks at Sylvain and then looks away, pushing his way out of the crowd without a word. 

Sylvain follows, a few steps behind Felix all the way to the bar. 

"Hey." He's more breathless than he has any reason to be when he finally catches up to him. He rests his hand on Felix's back, just between his shoulder blades. Through his thin shirt, he's hot to the touch. Sylvain's mouth is dry all over again. "Hey. Look at me?" 

Felix doesn't, ordering himself a drink and moving away from the bar once he has it. Sylvain follows him, unmoored, unsure of himself as he watches Felix drink, one stray drop running down his chin and his neck. Sylvain doesn't even think before he reaches out, stopping it with his thumb and brushing it away. Felix looks at him then, his gaze molten in a way that could be anger or desire. 

Sylvain brings his thumb to his mouth, sucking it clean. Felix swears under his breath, putting his empty cup down on a nearby table and then they're grabbing for each other, their mouths meeting in a hard kiss. Felix bites at Sylvain's lips, fingers curling tightly into his hair and keeping him where he is. Sylvain's hands are on Felix's back, his waist, his hips where his shirt rides up enough to expose skin. Sylvain can taste the sharp burn of alcohol on Felix's tongue as he slides his own against it. Felix makes a noise against Sylvain's mouth, desperate and broken and Sylvain doesn't think he's ever wanted something more than he wants to take Felix home right now and explore every single sound he can pull from between those pink, kiss-bruised lips. 

"Stop," Felix pants out, his fingers digging into Sylvain's shoulders. He clears his throat, his voice louder this time as he speaks against Sylvain's ear. " _Stop_."

Sylvain has his hands against the bare skin of Felix's back, having pushed his shirt up. He sucks in a shaky breath, pulling his hands away, resting their foreheads together. 

"Felix," he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut. 

"Give me your phone," Felix demands, gruff and prickly with none of the soft edges that Sylvain remembers. He takes the phone out of Sylvain's hands the moment he's unlocked it, typing his number in and saving it under his name, _Felix Fraldarius_ sitting there between the rest of his contacts with emojis in their names. "I'm getting back to the concert." 

"Felix, wait—" Sylvain begins, too slow to stop him, too soft to be heard. His heart is in his throat and his skin is still burning everywhere that Felix touched him. 

He knows not to push his luck. If he goes after Felix now, he might just chase Felix away entirely. He looks down at his phone, brushing his thumb against the edge of the screen, just by Felix's name. 

Ingrid is, predictably, furious at him when he slinks back to her side. "You're fucking unbelievable, you know that?"

"Uh huh." Sylvain feels dazed. He's still trying to get his head around the fact that he kissed Felix. He can't tell if it's something he's wanted to do since he first spotted Felix in the crowd. He has no idea if it's something he's wanted for even longer than that. 

Ingrid turns to him with a frown, immediately picking up on the fact that something's off. Sylvain doesn't know how to explain it. He can't find Felix in the crowd any more, even though it should feel like the easiest thing in the world. He feels adrift in the crowd, a little claustrophobic, and he takes a step back away from the rest of the audience, trying to claim some space for himself so he can catch his breath and sort his thoughts out. 

He doesn't succeed. He spends the rest of the concert scanning the crowd for Felix again, or at least his redhead friend. There's no sign of them and if not for the way Sylvain's lips are still tingling, the way his heart is pounding, and the number in his phone, he'd be prepared to write the whole thing off as a product of his imagination. 

Ingrid is still angry with him by the end of the concert but he's distracted enough that she's also worried about him. He doesn't stop looking for Felix until they're out of the venue, then pulls his phone out of his pocket and tries calling the number Felix saved into it. 

"This is Felix—"

"Hey, it's me—"

"—I'm not here. Leave a message," the recording continues, followed by a beep. 

Sylvain hangs up, swearing under his breath, and tries calling again. At least he knows it's definitely Felix's number. That's a good start.

"Hey," he says once he reaches Felix's voice mail again. "It's me. Uh, Sylvain. This is my number, uh, obviously. Give me a call?" 

"Fuck," he mutters, looking down at his phone once he's hung up. He wonders if he should text as well, and that's when Ingrid grabs his arm.

"What is going on?" she demands. "Who are you looking for? I swear, if this is another one of your stupid hookups, I'm—"

"It's Felix," Sylvain tells her at last. "I saw him in the crowd. I followed him to the bar and…"

Ingrid's gaze goes to Sylvain's lips, still swollen from kissing Felix, and her eyes narrow. "No. You did _not_ see Felix for the first time in nine years and immediately make out with him."

For a moment, Sylvain considers pointing out that it wasn't just him, that Felix had been reaching for him with just as much desperation, had kissed Sylvain just as hard. Except Ingrid's disappointed in him again, Felix is nowhere in sight, and it's just easier for Sylvain to shrug it all off and give Ingrid a lazy smirk.

"What can I say? You know me."

  
  
  


* * *

  
  
  


The next morning, Sylvain wakes up to no new calls or messages from Felix and the vague memory of a song stuck in his head. 

It's a Taylor Swift song, he's pretty certain, but he's not in the mood to skip through her entire discography to find the bar that keeps playing in the back of his mind. He texts Ingrid for help, inviting her over for breakfast because he's pretty sure she's still pissed off at him and one of the easiest ways to earn her forgiveness is by making her delicious food. 

He has coffee and waffles ready by the time she comes over. She lets him kiss her on the cheek in greeting, which means that she can't be _that_ annoyed at him. 

"Did you invite me over because you want to talk about Felix?" Ingrid asks when they're seated at the dining table, their plates piled high with food. 

Sylvain can't help the tight squeeze in his chest at her words. "Nah. I actually wanted to ask you about a song. Probably by Taylor Swift?"

"You've never been interested in her music," Ingrid says, narrowing her eyes. "I don't think you even paid attention to anything last night." 

Sylvain bites back his laugh. He's not sure how he could have possibly paid attention to anything when Felix was right there. "I just woke up with a song in my head, okay? Help me figure out which one it is before I drive myself crazy humming the same line over and over again."

"Fine," Ingrid says, but frowns at him. "Are you _sure_ you don't want to talk about Felix?"

"There's nothing to say," Sylvain replies. Felix hasn't replied to his call or voice mail. There's nothing else; they haven't spoken since Sylvain moved away from his childhood home when he was fifteen. He doesn't know what Felix has been doing, or where he's been. For all he knows, he could be dating the redhead he was at the concert with. 

Ingrid is watching him with a frown, like she can see the wheels turning in his mind. She doesn't say, _this doesn't seem like nothing_ , but unfortunately Sylvain knows her well enough to read it in her expression all the same. 

"This is all I remember of the song," Sylvain says, humming it for Ingrid. 

"Oh." Ingrid nods immediately, picking up her phone and thumbing through her music library before tapping on a song. "This one?"

Sylvain listens, unsure if he really recognises any of it until it hits the chorus about one minute into the song. The recognition comes paired with a memory: Felix's body against his, his lips and hands so demanding for that one, sweet moment. Sylvain reaches for Ingrid's phone, hitting pause as his stomach lurches with something dangerously close to longing. 

"State of Grace." Ingrid puts her phone down again. "Was that it?"

Sylvain covers his face with his hands, and he can almost taste Felix on his tongue again, the sharp bite of alcohol and an intoxicating hint of spice underneath. He swallows hard. 

"What's wrong?" Ingrid is frowning, her arms folded across her chest. She's ignoring the last two waffles on her plate and that tells Sylvain that whatever kind of mess he's in at the moment, he's doing an awful job of hiding it.

It's a little fucked up that he's somehow managed to remember the song playing when he kissed Felix, when he can barely remember anything else from last night. He's tempted to tell Ingrid about it but he isn't ready for where that conversation is going to lead. There's no point anyway. He'll just wait for Felix to get in touch with him. There isn't much he can do until then. 

"It's a nice song," he says, by which he means that he hates how personally he's relating to the lyrics that he can remember. He'll need to listen to it again later to hate it in detail.

"I can't believe you saw Felix last night," Ingrid mutters against the rim of her coffee mug, because of course she wouldn't drop something just because Sylvain doesn't want to talk about it. "How did he look?"

_Fucking gorgeous_ , Sylvain thinks, keeping it to himself. "Nine years is such a long time, Ingrid. Do you remember Glenn? Felix looks more like him than he used to, but it's still Felix."

Ingrid doesn't reply, her eyes downcast. 

Sylvain frowns. "…You're not saying something." 

Ingrid shakes her head. "I shouldn't be the one to tell you."

"It's important," Sylvain says. "I can tell that it is. Just tell me."

"It's Glenn. He, um, got in an accident. It happened years ago." Ingrid grips her mug with both hands, not meeting Sylvain's eyes. "He didn't survive."

"What?" Sylvain blinks, refusing to process Ingrid's words. "When? Shit, is Felix okay? Are _you_ okay?"

Ingrid shrugs, shaking her head. "Like I said. It happened a long time ago. We were thirteen." 

" _Thirteen_?" Sylvain almost shouts. He clears his throat, tries to lower his voice. "Fuck, Ingrid. You were thirteen when I moved away."

"Well, we didn't start talking again for a few years after that," Ingrid tells him with a sad smile. "Felix and me… we dealt with it. Or we didn't. I don't know any more, we just did what we could. I never knew how to tell you. Especially when you haven't seen Felix since then."

"Do you still see Felix?" Sylvain asks, unable to push away the terrible thought that Ingrid's been friends with Felix all this time without ever saying a thing. She's his best friend, but Felix was too. 

"He didn't want to see anyone." Ingrid sighs heavily. "I couldn't keep trying. I told him how to find me when he was ready. I guess he never was."

"He gave me his number last night," Sylvain says, even though he's starting to feel less confident about Felix ever contacting him. "Why would he give me his number if he didn't want to talk?" 

"Felix is Felix." Ingrid smiles sadly. "He hasn't really been the same since—"

"Since I left and since his brother died," Sylvain finishes for her. "In the space of a year. I should've been there for him."

"That's not your fault," Ingrid says firmly. "Don't blame yourself for things outside of your control."

Sylvain knows better than to make Ingrid a promise he can't keep. He'd already promised Felix once that they'd stay together for all their lives, and he's failed that. 

The rest of their breakfast passes in silence, Sylvain's thoughts going back to Glenn. Felix's relationship with his brother had always seemed like the polar opposite of Sylvain's relationship with Miklan. For starters, Glenn wasn't an asshole, and he'd looked out for Felix. They still used to fight, but Sylvain assumed that it was normal for brothers to do that, just not as much as he did with Miklan while growing up.

Miklan had been kicked out of the family a few years back, his growing criminal record apparently more trouble for their parents than he was worth. Sylvain doesn't know where he is now and doesn't care, but he feels guilty now for having the luxury to let Miklan just fade from his life, when Glenn was taken from Felix without warning. 

He checks his phone again once Ingrid's gone home, unsurprised that Felix hasn't contacted him yet. He sighs, typing out a message for him: _Hey Felix._

He sits there, staring at his screen for a long time, unsure of what else to say. He misses Felix, wants to see him again, wants to catch up properly instead of hearing things years after the fact and from someone else. He types out every single one of those thoughts,, deleting them again until he's left with the two same words again. 

In the end, he settles for something simple: _Hey Felix. It's Sylvain._

He hits send before he can overthink it, then puts his phone out of reach while he pulls his laptop out. He starts playing the song Ingrid helped him find, his speakers coming to life with music as he thinks about kissing Felix again.

Sylvain spends the entire day listening to the song, and he hates it. He hates how the music makes him think of Felix pressed up against him but the lyrics make him think of the way he felt when he first saw Felix in the crowd. He hates that he can't actually remember if his heart skipped a beat when their eyes met for the first time or if it's just something he's imagined. Maybe he's spent too long in his own head that he's having trouble separating fact from the beautiful kind of fiction that paints a pretty picture about them both wanting each other. Maybe he hopes that it's not just him, sitting alone in his apartment looping the song he kissed Felix to and pining for something that he's unlikely to ever have again. 

Felix doesn't reply after a day, or three days, or five. Sylvain would like to think that he's pushed the entire encounter out of his mind but he can't even pretend when he's spent all five of those days listening to _State of Grace_ , and then the rest of the songs from the same album, and then songs from Taylor Swift's other albums too, his breath catching on lyrics that hit a little too close to home, or turn his mind to Felix all over again. 

He doesn't know how to stop. He wishes he did, just so Ingrid would stop giving him a sad, knowing look every time she hears him playing more Taylor Swift, or staring at his phone for a moment too long like he can make Felix text back if he just wants it badly enough. 

Then, on the sixth day, sometime close to one in the morning, Sylvain's phone lights up with a message from Felix. 

It's just a simple one that reads, _Hey_.

Sylvain laughs, half pissed that it's taken Felix six days to type three letters, half relieved that Felix has replied at all. 

This is better than nothing, he reminds himself. He can work with that.

**Author's Note:**

> I decided I'd challenge myself for Song Week so all my fics are going to be different parts of the one big story!
> 
> A big thank you to [Eth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereally/pseuds/Ethereally) and [bent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thimble) for the hand-holding with this.


End file.
